John, You Can't Fool A Genius
by 221BSexySt
Summary: Sherlock is a genius, few things can puzzle him. One of those things is his sexually confused flat mate. Johnlock. Has sex and other stuff.
1. Russian Arms Dealers and Tea

"John, I don't understand your trepidation about this case." Sherlock said, clearly irritated by the good doctor's apprehension. Sherlock had received the most interesting case. That which had murder, illegal smuggling and a high probability of danger. So to say the least, Sherlock was excited about it. He paced the floor near John's chair with his violin in hand, anxiously waiting for his friend's response. However, his flat mate was a bit more cautious about the case.

"Of course you wouldn't find it alarming! You're too busy trying to figure out the case even before you've officially accepted it! For God's sake Sherlock, these are Russian Nuclear Arms Dealers!" John shouted as he slammed his tea down on the saucer.

"The only reason I haven't accepted it yet was because of you." Sherlock stated bitterly.

"Just say yes so we can work on the case!" Sherlock stared down at John aggressively. John simply shook his head.

"No, I will not put myself in that sort of danger. That is crossing a line and you know it. You want to take the case, fine. YOU go to Russia. Have fun being blown up. I'll be here with my cup of tea." John said, delicately picking up his cup again and taking a sip.

Sherlock threw his violin down angrily on his chair and stalked past the kitchen and into his room.

**Later That Night**

Sherlock had accepted the fact that John wasn't going to accompany him on the Russian Arms Dealer Case, so he had begun packing his things with more than hostile movements.

"What are you doing in here?" John stood at Sherlock's half opened door with two cups, he leaned gently against the door frame with a curious look on his face.

"Isn't it obvious John? I'm packing." Sherlock said with no emotion.

"Well, yes, I see that. But why? Where are you going?"

"You are insufferable John… I am going to Russia, like you said I should." Sherlock snapped.

"Sherlock." John sighed and walked into the room. He sat the cups down on Sherlock's nightstand and walked over to where his friend sat on this bed with his clothes chaotically jammed into his suitcase.

"Sherlock, just forget the case. There are other cases that are just as interesting as that one."

"NO John. There is **not**! Not **now **anyways. I am absolutely bored! My brain needs something stimulating! I need a puzzle or I'll go mad!" Sherlock shouted in frustration, he let his head drop and ran his fingers anxiously through his hair as he thought. John froze. He sucked in a slow shallow breath. He didn't dare move closer or farther away. He was suspending in time. Sherlock ruffled his hair a bit more and then turned and looked up at John, that's when John let out the breath that he didn't know he was holding. That's when he came back to reality.

"Sherlock there must be something else that can occupy your mind." John said as he slowly moved away from his flat mate.

"There are few things in this world, John, that are puzzling enough to keep me entertained." Sherlock replied as he noticed John's odd movements. His friend's posture was erect. His limbs were stiff with an anxiety that John was desperately trying to hide. His hands were shaking slightly with a sort of nervous twitch, one that Sherlock had seen only when John was with one of his girlfriends. Sherlock frowned as he thought. John felt Sherlock's eyes as he looked him up and down in a deducing manner. He instantly felt more awkward and so naturally, he would talk instead of the more intelligent option of staying quiet.

"Well, what are they? Maybe we can get your mind off this ludicrous case. I mean, that is much too dangerous. You can't go and get into that kind of situation, I don't know what I would-"

"I am perfectly capable of fending for myself." Sherlock interrupted as he watched John's hand nervously tap out three quick taps on the edge of the bed then pause then three more rapid taps. John was doing this unconsciously, that was obvious. But why was he doing it? Sherlock looked up to meet John's gaze.

"Yes, of course. I know that, I just… it's just that… You know, you're my…friend." John stumbled over his words; as if he wasn't sure what he was saying until the words had already fallen from his lips. Sherlock let out a small smirk.

"As you are mine. But I fail to see what my safety has to do with our friendship. I am also wondering why you are so nervous all of a sudden." Sherlock stated. John swallowed and looked away from his friend's vibrant blue eyes. Those deducing eyes...Seducing…eyes… John swallowed again.

"Nervous?" John chuckles trying to make it sound light.  
"What are you talking about?" John felt his stomach knot up and his cheeks began to involuntarily flush. And then his feelings began to well up again; he had to push the feelings away. He had to push them way down where they can't crawl back up and show themselves to Sherlock again. He stood up them and turned toward the door.

"You're pulse has quickened, you have a nervous tick and well plainly John, I can see it on your face." Sherlock said, standing as well, behind his friend. John's back was to Sherlock as he walked to the bedroom door.

"You're crazy…Want a cup of tea?" And with that John was out into the kitchen leaving behind the two cups he had already brought into Sherlock's room. Both cups were still steaming hot, but not as hot as John's cheeks.


	2. Sherlock's Experiment

Chapter 2

Sherlock had eventually (with some convincing) turned down the Russian Nuclear Arms Dealers Case, to John's relief. However, Sherlock did it with an attitude that was all but pleasant. It was almost a week after he had said no to the Russians and John could see the consequences of his refusing the case. Now, John had become accustom to Sherlock's overall unsocial behavior, for example Sherlock had the habit of not saying good morning to him, or not eating for long periods of time, or just telling John how painfully obvious something was and making a note of John's stupidity. These, among other unique traits had become the norm at 221B. And John was alright with them. However, the week that preceded the turning down of that particular case was even more uncomfortable for John than normal.

Sherlock had not spoken but 5 words to him the entire week. He was not looking for new cases nor was he doing experiments, at least none of which John new about. Sherlock would just quietly sit in his chair holding his violin (not playing it, just holding it) and he would watch John. When John got home from his work at the clinic, Sherlock would idly watch his flat mate come in take off his coat as he tossed it on the chair casually and walked into the kitchen for some tea. All the while John's face was flushed. He couldn't help it; he felt like one of Sherlock's experiments. Like he was being analyzed under a microscope.

And according to Sherlock this was exactly what was happening.

Sherlock had been curious as to why John had cared whether or not he went on the Russian's case. He and John had been on countless cases where danger was quite literally around every corner. However, for some reason this time was different and Sherlock wanted to understand why. So he made John, his new puzzle. Just like if he was studying something at his microscope; Sherlock was incredibly focused when watching his flat mate in his daily life. He had no reason to speak to John, for he was a test subject of sorts. So obviously he couldn't contaminate his findings with conversations with his friend.

In the beginning of the very long week, he had begun to see things that he normally hadn't. For instance, when John didn't think Sherlock was looking he would stare at his flat mate with an expression that Sherlock could only describe as "awe." Sherlock knew that his flat mate thought him brilliant, which was obvious because he was in fact, brilliant. But something about that look …It stuck in the back of Sherlock's mind.

Sherlock watched now as his flat mate went into the kitchen and started up a pot of tea. Sherlock watched as John awkwardly glanced over at him, Sherlock didn't look away which made John blush. Sherlock decided that he would observe John more discreetly now, seeing as that his watching his flat mate only made John act more out of character. So Sherlock reached over to the table and picked up the paper and placed it in front of his face, obstructing his view of John. John instantly became less anxious as he poured tea into one cup and coffee into Sherlock's cup. Sherlock peered around the paper ever so carefully and watched as John dropped two sugars into Sherlock's coffee a small content smile spreading across his face. John, was notably relaxed as he thought that Sherlock was maybe now getting back to normal… Well, _their _normal at least. He took the two cups and headed into the living room as Sherlock raised the paper again. John sat the tea down and then sat in his chair with his laptop.

"John, have you had something on your mind recently?" Sherlock asked without lowering his paper. John looked up from his laptop and swallowed. He was afraid that Sherlock would catch on. He knew sooner or later Sherlock would figure him out. I mean, come on! He's a bloody genius! John sighed.

"Not anything that normally isn't already on my mind." He replied, which was the truth. Sherlock had always been on his mind, it's just now his thoughts were less…Pure…

"Hmmm." Sherlock knew John was lying by the wavering tone in his voice. But why lie to him? For someone so smart Sherlock was having quite a difficult time trying to figure John out. Which excited him, maybe even more than any of his cases. This struck him a bit funny and he lowered the paper to reach for his tea. As he lowered the paper he looked over at his cup and picked it up, as he began to drink he looked over at John. John's face… Sherlock almost dropped his cup at the realization. That face was not awe, it was not admiration, and it was not the face of just a friend or flat mate. Sherlock stared in wonder over the top of his teacup at John. The man's lips were parted slightly and his hand gripped his thigh as if he was physically trying to stop his legs from standing. These were all things that Sherlock noticed instantly. But the thing that really caught the consulting detective was his friend's eyes. Those were eyes filled with lust. _'Nothing on your mind, indeed_.' Sherlock thought with amusement.


	3. Rinse off the Dirt

Chapter 3

[[Warning: This chapter has a nice masturbation scene. So if you no likey..You no ready… xoxo Hope you enjoy!]]

John stood motionless as he let the water wash away the dirt from his skin... He and his flat mate at just returned home after chasing, an art thief. They had followed him under bridges, through parks and up fire escapes. John rubbed his eyes roughly as the image of Sherlock's behind flashed in his mind. He hadn't meant to stare at it as they climbed the fire escape, it had just _been _there. And ever since then it was ingrained in the poor doctor's mind.

Sherlock had seemingly got back to normal. He was taking cases again and he wasn't constantly staring at John which gave John mixed feelings. On the one hand John had hated the attention, at any moment Sherlock could have figured out what John was thinking and that had scared him. However, on the other hand, it was unlike Sherlock to pay attention to any other human being if it was at all possible. So in a way John felt flattered that Sherlock had chosen _him_ to eye stalk for a week. Still, over all John was more relieved at the consulting detective's behavior change.

But unknown to John, his friend was still observing him. When he decided to be more discreet he had thought it out thoroughly. He wanted to see how John was acting when they were on cases, especially since he had found out that John was having more than just friendly feelings toward him. Sherlock picked the easiest cases he could find out of the pile. It was a large pile, for most of the cases were pathetically easy. But he picked a case about a stolen jewel that was obviously the husband's gay lover (it took him less than 5 seconds to figure it out) and told John they must track down the thief.

Sherlock began to take pleasure in observing his friend. Now that he knew John's feelings, (at least the ones that were apparent) and now that his friend thought everything was "normal" again, he had free reign to add determining factors into his observations. Basically he was going to dangle himself in front of John like a piece of expensive salmon to a stray cat. He started with simple things like touching John's shoulder before entering the taxi. There was almost an immediate reaction in John's posture as it straightened up. As soon as Sherlock removed his hand John slunk into the back seat and slid over so Sherlock could get in. The whole situation happened in less than a few moments but it spoke volumes to Sherlock. It was things like this that made it even more apparent to Sherlock of how John viewed him.

John lifted his head and let the warm water run down his back now. He didn't know where Sherlock was, but that didn't stop him. John lowered his hands from their place on his head and slowly reached down. He held himself in his calloused hand and slowly began to stroke his member. He wasn't really thinking or trying to think. He desperately tried to clear him mind. _Just focus on the feeling._ He told himself. Unfortunately he didn't want to listen to that advice as his mind slowly wandered toward the image of a fire escape and then….

"Dammit." John cursed as he stopped himself from going any further. He couldn't think about his flat mate…His _friend_…While he…John looked down in dismay… He was hard as a rock…Just the thought of his _bum_ and John was already hard… He sighed…

Sherlock was never really that interested in sex. There had been no real need for it in his daily life. And even if there had been a need Sherlock simply did it himself. Why involve another person in what he could do much more efficiently. But John on the other hand seemed to need it quite often, from how many girlfriends he had had since Sherlock had met him… Sherlock listened carefully at the bathroom door. Sherlock could tell by the frustrated grunts and other various noises that John was relieving himself of some sexual tension that he had been harboring for a while. Sherlock normally wouldn't take this into any account, but John peaked his interest in Sherlock. Maybe John had had so many girlfriend's because he was trying to avoid the fact that he had other feelings for Sherlock, feelings that John didn't want to face just yet.

John grunted again as he gripped tighter on his cock. Images of Sherlock rushed through his mind, Sherlock smiling, frowning, thinking, with his eyes shut peacefully as he lay on the sofa his hands together in front of his pursed lips. Sherlock standing incredibly close to him on number of occasions as he deduced a crime scene. It was almost too much for John as he pumped his fist harder around himself. Thrusting with each image of his friend. Then John thought of the moment when Sherlock asked him if there was something on his mind. It might have been a simple moment, where John had been watching Sherlock. He had watched carefully as Sherlock picked up his cup and began to sip. The evening light was filling the room through the window behind his friend, almost giving Sherlock an unearthly glow. John jerked forward in the shower. When Sherlock had looked at him over his cup John had almost lost it he had almost got up and- John lurched forward in one last spasm as he emptied himself into his palm. He slumped forward a bit using the wall of the shower as support. Slowly his cheeks turned hot and John felt shame that he had just wanked off to the image of his best friend. But as he wrapped the towel around him he felt lighter than when he had got into the shower with all that dirt clogging him up.


	4. Infuriating Findings

John's shyness and allusive behavior gets on the consulting detective's nerves and makes him question a few things about himself as well as his new test subject. By the way there isn't any sexy times in this one, but do not fret! There will more to come!

Chapter 4

"What have we got?" Lestrade asked as he walked up hands in his trouser pockets.

"It's obvious." Sherlock's irritated voiced echoed in the almost completely empty warehouse (that seemed to have had renovations being done to it according to all the construction equipment outside). Save for a few crime scene photographers the detective inspector, John and himself there were not many others around.

"Of course it is…What's obvious?" John asked glancing at Sherlock then looking around a bit self-consciously. Sherlock smirked. John was a relatively smart man, but sometimes he was so clueless. Which Sherlock had recently started to find amusing, maybe even charming. Sherlock pointed to the dead man's head. Even without much of an audience Sherlock had to point out the painfully (in his mind) obvious death of this poor dead chap.

"His death _was _blunt force, however he was_ not_ murdered. The markings on his forearms and legs indicate he had fallen but not far enough that it was the killing blow. No, he had in fact fallen from the beams above and landed partially on those sand bags, partially on the cement floor. As you can see there are small traces of blood on the bags and floor surrounding them. When he began to regain his footing and once again reach a standing position he leaned on the switch that operates the pulley system above. That in turn lifted that plat form, knocking the tool case off the protruding ledge where the man was bludgeoned to death with the various tools from the set."

"That was…"

"Amazing, I know John." Sherlock said putting his hand's in his coat pockets.

"But if he was killed by falling tools where are the tools?" Lestrade asked.

"Oh for God's sakes." Sherlock sighed. He turned and pointed to the van outside the large window.

"The construction worker's employer. He took the tools and hid them in his truck so that his company was not reliable for the man's death." He said.

"But you said it wasn't murder." Lestrade asked. A very livid frown was slowly seeping onto Sherlock's face.

"It wasn't murder... I never said there wasn't a crime though, did I?" Sherlock announced.

"Wait…Construction worker?" John asked.

"Yes, of course construction worker! Who else would have these low grade work boots, an inexpensive and dirty collared shirt and a lunch pail with his name on it?" Sherlock pointed forcefully at the pail that was less than a few feet away from the sand bags. John smiled in understanding as Lestrade gave a short nod.

"Alright then. So it was an accident…" Lestrade Said.

Sherlock turned and began to stalk out of the room with his hands deep in his pockets.

"I'm so glad you pulled me out of bed for such an important case Lestrade, come along John, I think there's another case that we must solve involving a lost puppy." Sherlock snipped out sarcastically.

Soon John and Sherlock were in a taxi heading back to 221B.

"Well, that was an absolute waste of a perfectly good morning spent on my experiment." Sherlock griped.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" John asked as he purposely stared out his window, instead of looking at his friend. Sherlock looked over at John.

"Nothing." He replied, which was of course a lie. What had Sherlock in such an irritable mood was _John._ He had not been a very good test subject as of late. It had been nearly a month since Sherlock had begun to quietly observe his flat mate. One month of watching John shy away from Sherlock's pats to the shoulder, or his ever so frequent glances that Sherlock almost always caught out of the corner of his eye now. One month of hearing John in his room late at night softly pleasuring himself and ever so quietly whispering Sherlock's name. But the past few days were different.

Recently John had barely looked at Sherlock; no quick glances from the side as Sherlock passed into the kitchen, or long looks as Sherlock analyzed a crime scene. Sherlock had not felt John's eyes on him for less than a second in the past 4 days. And it was getting on Sherlock's nerves. He had _thought_ that he had John all figured out. But over the past days John had barely moved an inch when in the presence of his friend. Even during one instance where Sherlock was practically hovering over him as he typed rapidly on his blog.

And then of course there was the fact that he was dating again….

Sherlock found that, even before he had begun to watch his flat mate more carefully, he didn't like the women that John dated. He found them lacking in almost every sense of the word. There was always something wrong with them. They were never good enough to be with John. These notions of Sherlock's had become even more prominent in his mind ever since he decided to test his friend's emotions. Sherlock had noticed that John was lacking in more than a few areas, therefore he needed someone that could fill those areas with _their_ qualities. John was a smart man, but Sherlock had found himself thinking that what John needed was someone who was _impeccably_ intelligent, witty, and brave. Sherlock was not trying to fool himself though; he knew he was describing himself. He also knew that if he ever told John of these particular thoughts, he would do like he always did and deny anything and everything. Avoiding the situation like a plague. Sherlock smiled at this. At least _that _was something that was constant. John's denials were another incredibly obvious indicator of his feelings; however the good doctor never stopped to think about the phrase, "doth protest too much". Which always made Sherlock grin.

But if his feelings were so obvious, why go on dates with inadequate women?

"I'm not going to be in for dinner. I have a date with April tonight." John said as the cab neared Baker Street. John chanced a quick look at Sherlock before looking down at his phone.

"April? Who names their child after a month?" Sherlock mummbled with a rigid scoff at the absurdity of it. This was becoming intolerable! Why was John so adamantly trying to hide his feelings even further? There was no _point _to his actions! Why didn't he just come out with it already?!

"Sherlock, be nice. She's a sweet girl…" John said as he checked his text messages absently. Trying to keep his eyes focused on anything but the man sitting next to him.

"Is she brave?" Sherlock inquired chastising himself at the sudden impulse to ask such a stupid and unnecessary question. Why should he care? He shouldn't even be bothered with thinking about women, especially the women that were dating _John._ He _should _be using his brain for more urgent puzzles like serial killers or a good terrorist plot… But alas, he was not. And the thought of John being a _distraction _rather than a _test subject_, irritated Sherlock.

"What?" John couldn't help it he had to look up at Sherlock at the odd inquiry of his friend.

"Never mind." Sherlock turned toward the window and didn't say another word. As he pondered something even more puzzling than John's feelings… His own.

Hey Guys! I'm so happy that you like my little story. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to keep going after the first chapter, but you guys are so awesome, how could I not?! Next chapter will be a bit more of John's P.O.V and maybe if we're lucky something might "happen" between our two favorite flat mates! We'll see. By the way, I love reviews! Especially ones with feedback about what you like and what you don't. Anywho, till next Chapter! xoxo :P


	5. If John's not Jealous, Who Is?

Hello lovely Johnlockians… Is that what we are? Johnlockians? Meh…Whatever. So I hope you guys like this chapter. I am LOVING the feedback you guys are giving, you guys have got some great ideas! I am happy that you find the story sweet, because I was hoping to convey the struggle of these two while also letting them give in a little to what they are feeling. :3 Anyways, enough of my babbling. :P

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Chapter 5

John's breath became shallow as he thrust into his bedfellow. The movements were jerky and awkward and John definitely wasn't reaching full orgasm, not yet anyways. He wasn't thinking about what he was doing. He wasn't thinking about his partner. Instead he was thinking about….

"Oh, Sherlock."

Mrs. Hudson said to the stoic man as he stared at the fire and held his violin in his hands carefully. Mrs. Hudson places the cup of tea down on his end table. Sherlock sat quietly waiting for John to come in the door. He had stayed up all night thinking about what John could _possibly_ be doing with his new companion April. Just then Sherlock heard a taxi door shut and the front door downstairs open. Sherlock looked at the clock, 9:00 am.

John slowly opened the front door and closed it quietly. _Sherlock must be still asleep. It's much too early for him especially on a Monday morning. He was probably up all night doing experiments or working on a case. _John thought to himself. His heart ached at the thought of his friend not getting enough sleep, the doctor part of him always wanted to chastise his friend about the dangers of not getting enough REM sleep. But he knew that the man would just brush him off and continue to do as he pleased. Maybe even staying up later just to spite him. John frowned. He hadn't talked to Sherlock as much the past couple of days, mostly because he was on the verge of acting on his feelings and he couldn't very well do that. He had to be cautious.

He constantly had the urge to be near to Sherlock, to look at him for long moments and to touch him back whenever Sherlock touched his shoulder or arm. Every fiber in him yearned for these things, and he had to fight tooth and nail _not _to do them. He was terrified at how his friend would react if he made advances. He knew that Sherlock had no issues about people who were gay Hell, Sherlock could be gay himself, John had no idea…But _that _was the _issue_. John _wasn't _gay. He had _never_ in his entire life; ever felt a sexual or emotional attraction to another man. Only friendship… Until Sherlock.

He didn't understand exactly why he had these feelings for his flat mate. He knew that he idolized Sherlock, and he knew that he found him mysterious which John had always found interesting in the _women_ he dated. He liked the fact that he didn't always know what was on his mind, although sometimes it was the worst thing about Sherlock. Like right now, John wished to God he knew what Sherlock felt. He wished he could tell what his friend was thinking by just looking at his face like the great detective.

John slowly climbed the stairs he had to get his laundry from the living room then he would go to his room and take a shower, **without** thinking about Sherlock while he did so…He was determined to get over this. He _wasn't _gay, and he _wasn't _going to let anything happen between him and his flat mate. When he reached the top of the stairs he took a deep breath as he walked into the living room. Sherlock sat in his chair with his violin in his lap and holding his bow with one hand on each end of it.

"Ah, good you're home…" Sherlock stated casually as John came in. John was caught off guard at the sight of his friend. Why was he up before noon? Was there another case? Did he even sleep last night?! John frowned and turned away from Sherlock and toward the sofa to see a basket with his clothes inside. He walked to it as he cleared his throat.

"Yes, and you're up. Long night?" John asked secretly trying to find out if Sherlock had even slept. He looked through his clothes trying to find a shirt and underpants hastily. He just had to get his clothes and go.

Sherlock frowned.

"I could ask you the same thing." Sherlock replied lifting his violin to his chin. John flinched, remembering the previous night. It had been horrible to say the least. It wasn't that April wasn't beautiful, because she was. It wasn't because sex with her was bad, because compared to other women it wasn't. It was because the entire time he could not stop thinking about Sherlock. With every thrust, every touch, every shallow unsteady breath the thought of Sherlock was right alongside him. It was a harsh reminder that he wasn't getting over this "ordeal" as soon as he had hoped. John frowned and snatched up a grey shirt and red underpants.

Sherlock began to softly play his violin.

John turned sharply, almost in a military fashion and walked toward the door. As he exited the room he mumbled loud enough for Sherlock to hear,  
"Yes, very long night. It was great, April is amazing." And with that he leapt up the stairs taking two steps at a time. Sherlock, shocked by the unnerving comment, let his bow skip unnaturally across the strings causing an awful screech that sent chills down the detective's spine. Or maybe it wasn't the screech that caused the chills.

John hurried as he stripped off his clothes and got into his shower. He stood facing the water with a sour expression. He just wanted to get rid of these feelings he was harboring. Why did he have to feel like this?

Sherlock sat thoughtfully. _So, is he overcompensating?_ Sherlock pondered to himself. _Or is he over this crush of his? _Sherlock couldn't be sure… Not without more data. So he did what any other sensible person would do, he would continue to test his theories even if it killed John. _It's a risk I'm willing to take._ He thought with amusement. Sherlock stood from his chair and quietly climbed the stairs. He heard the shower running and entered John's room. The bathroom door was shut, as always and John's clothes were laid out on his bed…As always… Previously, Sherlock had always allowed time for him to leave John's room before his flat mate got out of the shower. But not this time.


	6. How Was Your Shower, John?

[[This one's for you imdrowninginfootwear!]]

Also, a little bit more of John's manhood is at attention in this one. This one is also a bit longer than normal. Hope you guys don't mind. :)

I'm also sorry to say that the next chapter might be a day late, because I am going to attempt a Supernatural (Destiel) fanfic over the weekend.

Alright! I'm done! xoxo

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Chapter 6

John stepped out of the shower, feeling no less better about the situation than when he got in. He took the white towel off the rack and dried off his chest and back. Then he ruffled it over his head and finally wrapped it around his waist before opening the bathroom door. John almost let the towel slip to the floor in shock as his eyes rested on Sherlock sitting casually on his bed…Holding his underwear…

"What the bleeding hell are you doing in here?" John yelled as he walked over to Sherlock.

"I'm waiting for you to finish your shower." Sherlock replied simply.

"Why are you waiting_ in_ my room?! And why in God's name are you holding my underwear?!" John blushed harder than ever before but not from anger as one might suspect.

"They're remarkably soft; I can see why you would want to wear them." Sherlock said, avoiding John's question. John's eye's widened and snatched the underpants from Sherlock.

"Sherlock, I need to get dressed!" John froze as Sherlock looked him up and down.

"I can see that John." Sherlock replied with a half grin. Sherlock was actually quite enjoying this, despite himself.

"Sherlock, will you _please leave, while I get dressed._"

"John, we're both grown men. I don't see what the fuss is all about." Sherlock said looking John up and down again. There was no real reason for his looking again he just felt like it. It seemed to get some sort of rise out of John...Of course John would consider it more like being driven insane with lust. He desperately needed Sherlock to **stop **looking at him like that, or something was going to happe-

John went rigid as he felt his erection grow under the towel_. NO! No, no, no, no, no, No,NO. This __**cannot **__be happening!_ John's mind was racing... _Really? Now, of all the times?! _John was so angry at himself he didn't know what to do. Sherlock noticed instantly what was happening. Suddenly Sherlock's smile turned into another expression, one that he was not accustomed to. Sherlock watched as John tried desperately to discreetly hide his growing bulge with his hand. It wasn't working very well at all. Sherlock looked up at John's face to see horror in his friend's eyes.

"That's right Sherlock! We're _men_! Now can you p-please leave!" John said as his erection twitched with every word. He held his hand over his aching crotch as he spoke. John couldn't handle the pressure that was building. He had to relieve at least a little bit of it. He half turned so that he thought Sherlock couldn't see and groped himself slightly, maneuvering his cock as to relieve some of the pressure so he wouldn't burst right then and there. However, being the cunning detective he was, Sherlock instantly noticed his friend's issue. Sherlock watched as John tried to nonchalantly rub his thumb over the bulge in the towel. Sherlock took in a slow and steady breath as stood up next to John.

Caught off guard, John stumbled back almost falling over backwards. Sherlock quickly grabbed his friend's wrist before John could have the chance to fall to the ground. With one swift movement Sherlock had yanked John back into a standing position. They were inches apart. John looked up at Sherlock a moment as Sherlock stared down at John with an odd expression. John tilted his head to the side. What was that expression? He had never seen it on Sherlock before…Was it anger? Frustration? No, he knew what his friend looked like with those expressions…John sucked in a quick breath as he realized what it could be.

"T-Thanks…I- I'm going to get dressed in the bathroom." John said hastily as he grabbed his other clothes and all but ran into the bathroom and shut the door. Sherlock smirked. John was a much more entertaining subject than simple lab rats; he was also much more handsome come to think of it.

When John finally came back into his room it was empty. He decided he needed to eat _something_ so he reluctantly went down to the kitchen, where he found Sherlock with a ripe banana in his hand. John's eyebrows raised a moment in confusion.

"Why do you have a banana?" John asked as he went to the fridge. Sherlock watched John carefully as John tried to avoid eye contact. But Sherlock nibbled at the top of the banana as John passed by him. Which brought the desired pinkish color to John's cheeks.

"Well, despite popular belief. I _do _need to eat and sleep. I just don't do it as much as everyone else."

"Which is unhealthy, mind you." John mumbled into the fridge as he got out a half empty carton of milk.

"Well I'm eating now. And bananas are healthy. They're rich in potassium." Sherlock grinned as he gently slid a bit more of the banana into his mouth, savoring the taste and then ever so slowly he took a bite. John literally stopped what he was doing to stare at Sherlock while he did this, and then he abruptly turned to get a glass from the cupboard.

"I know what's in bananas Sherlock." John said stiffly. Why was he viewing Sherlock like that? All he was doing was eating a banana! _But you saw his face back in your room! That expression, it looked an awful lot like lust…__**No, Sherlock doesn't feel that way…YOU do**_. _This is ridiculous. I need to stop seeing everything that Sherlock does as if I am about to fuck his bloody brains out! We __**can't **__be together._

Sherlock swallowed the banana piece and looked up at John from his seat at the table.

"John, are you alright? You look a bit pale… You may need nourishment; I can tell you haven't had anything to eat by the wrinkles in your collar… By any chance do you want my banana?" Sherlock held out the peeled banana toward John. John couldn't even respond to that. He just mumbled incoherently a moment and then left the kitchen leaving Sherlock holding the banana in the air.

**That Night**

John had been out of the flat the entire day. He was trying to sort out his feelings, to no avail. He was still as confused as ever. However, Sherlock was the very opposite of confused. He was certain of John's feelings. And going by what Sherlock had experienced that morning while watching John in just a towel, it was very apparent to Sherlock what _he_ was feeling as well. Well, Sherlock was someone who rarely ever thought about sex. And if he did he normally did it himself, why have someone else do what he could do much more efficiently. Unless of course you had a doctor who knew much more in the field of anatomy than you did.

The front door opened and a very anxious and frustrated John came in and shut the door. When he turned around Sherlock was standing before him. His face was emotionless as far as John could tell in the dim light. He could barely make out Sherlock's outline, let alone his facial features. Sherlock's stance was rigid like a statue, John couldn't look away. He couldn't even blink. He just stared at Sherlock's silhouette.

"Sherlock, what are you doing." John's voice came out in a gruff whisper as Sherlock took a step toward the already nervous man.  
"John, I must say. These past few days have been very frustrating; you have not been helping my experiment." Sherlock said as he took another step.

"What experiment?" John asked in a shaky voice.

"A very important one, I should think." Sherlock replied; another step.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't. Seeing as you can be very daft at times." Sherlock said, taking a third step toward his flat mate. John frowned at this comment.

"Don't take it personally John, if it makes you feel any better, it seems I didn't catch on to this particular development as quickly as I should have either." Sherlock was less than a foot away from John. John's breath was shallow.

"What do you mean?" John asked as he swallowed. John took a deep breath as Sherlock took his final step closing the distance and pushing John back into the closed door.

"I think you know _**exactly **_what I'm referring to John." Sherlock said with his piercing stare. John's breath hitched. Was Sherlock doing what he thought he was doing? This couldn't be happening! What was he supposed to do?!


	7. Testing a Theory

Well, my other fanfiction isn't going as planned so here is the next chapter. :P I hope you guys like this one. xoxo

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Chapter 7

Sherlock was the world's only consulting detective, which meant he was beyond inherently smart. He had the knowledge of 243 types of tobacco ash, he could deduce where you were born from the length of your hair and he could easily find out who you were sleeping with, by the scent of your deodorant. However, there was one person that Sherlock, despite his best efforts, always had a hard time reading. John Watson. Now don't get me wrong, most things about his friend were painfully obvious, his issues with his sister, his military status, and just recently his affections for the detective. But Sherlock was much less in tune with other people's emotions and more in tune with the psychical facts that made themselves present.

For instance as he took one final step toward his friend in the hallway of 221B, pushing the other man into the door, he could easily tell that John was aroused by the prominent lump that was growing, brushing up against the detective's leg. He knew that John was _physically_ attracted to him, but John kept his thoughts guarded and locked away. So Sherlock was less aware of what John was _feeling._ John had been very careful in concealing his deepest desires and fantasies from prying minds, like Sherlock's, due to the fear of how Sherlock might react. He had never heard of Sherlock, ever being with a woman _or_ a man. Sherlock was a complete mystery in that respect. Which terrified his flat mate.

"I think you know _exactly_what I'm referring to John." Sherlock said. John's breath hitched and Sherlock knew that John was aware of what he was referring to. Sherlock wasn't well educated in the dealings of sexuality; he had no use for the knowledge before this time. However he had done some research while John was out brooding the day away and felt he could continue his experiments further if John allowed. The only problem was that he didn't know if John _would_ allow.

John's mind was racing beyond its normal speed which actually made him a bit dizzy. He stared up at Sherlock as the detective pressed his leg firmer against John's groin. John closed his eyes and let out a soft moan. Sherlock watched John's face carefully, trying to see what emotions he was feeling, other than the obvious lust. John's head swirled again as Sherlock leaned in close to John's face. Sherlock being so close wasn't that unusual but this time it was different. This time there was a tension in the air that was undeniable. John's eyes popped open and fear replaced the lust that was there just a moment before. Sherlock's face crunched up in frustration.

"Sherlock." John breathed the name out as if he had just run a marathon.

"Yes, John?" Sherlock replied. John took a deep breath.

"What are you doing?" John asked trying to move under Sherlock's weight, with not much success.

"Testing a theory." Sherlock said firmly, John couldn't read Sherlock's face. Was he just messing with him? Was he just testing some odd hypothesis on "How People React in Close Proximity to Other People" or something? John swallowed.

"What theory?" He all but whispered.

"The theory that you are in fact sexually attracted to me, despite your protests to your own body, which I imagine are flooding you with discomfort." Sherlock said as he pushed on John's groin again, making the good doctor grunt in pleasure and protest.

"So far the findings are inconclusive." Sherlock grinned, as he felt himself to be very witty in that moment. John on the other hand was staring at Sherlock in utter disbelief. When it finally started to click.

"So you mean to tell me, that this is some twisted experiment on _ME_?! Wait a bloody minute!..._**I **_was your experiment these past few weeks, wasn't I!?I **am **the twisted experiment… " John came to realize fully.

"You were in a way, my experiment, yes. 'Twisted', well that's more a matter of opinion." Sherlock smiled, John's face was just inches from Sherlock's, and while both men had a very large urge to close the gap, neither of them did so. Sherlock watched John's eyes dilate as Sherlock move a sliver of millimeter closer and brushed his lips against John's cheek.

"You know what your problem is John, you are trying to be me right now. I can see it all over your face, it's so obvious. You are trying to deduce what I am thinking, trying to figure out if this is right or wrong or if therereally _is _a _**grey**__ area._" Sherlock whispered in his flat mate's ear. John frowned.

"Well what about you? _You _were messing with me this entire time!" John replied with a hint of anger.

"I was simply trying to figure you out." Sherlock said quietly, he suddenly felt uncomfortable as he pulled away from John a bit.

"What? You're bloody Sherlock Holmes! It doesn't take you a month to figure something out! It takes you a minute!" John tried to push Sherlock away, but only managed to make Sherlock one step back. John was still pinned between the detective and the door. Sherlock swallowed, he didn't want to admit this, but he felt he had to.

"Well, it seems that you are a bit more complex when it comes to your emotions and I lack certain knowledge of communication when it comes to those sorts of things. It's true I can figure out trivial things in less than a minute. But you are _far _from trivial." Sherlock took a deep breath, feeling a sort of weight being lifted off his mind. John's insides all but melted into a puddle. Sherlock had been trying to understand John, had been trying to comprehend something that he didn't understand. John smiled; he was a puzzle for Sherlock to figure out. And he took this as a very high honor, because he knew how much Sherlock _loved_ his puzzles.

John looked up at Sherlock, his eyes gleaming with pure desire. Sherlock recognized that, but there was something else. Something he couldn't quite define…Yet…

Sherlock leaned in again, his face inches from John's. He was going to understand John if it killed him. But something told Sherlock, that his research would be far from painful.  
"What are you thinking right now?" Sherlock asked his expression was completely filled with deep curiosity.

"I'm thinking that you are very close, and I am very-" John stops short.

"Very what John?" Sherlock urged on.

"Sherlock, I don't know what you think you're doing but this isn't funny." John said trying to push past Sherlock again. Sherlock had other ideas though, he pushed John back into the door and came _insanely_ close. John could feel his breath hot on his lips.

"This isn't meant to be funny John." Sherlock said and with those last words he wouldn't let John talk anymore for his lips were crushing his flat mates making John moan in pleasure. John finally felt the weight he had been harboring, lift from him. Sherlock cradled John's face in his hands as he continued to kiss his friend, but despite his best efforts on keeping his mind on this "experiment" his hands began to wander down John's side and rest on his hips.

Experiment or not, this was going to be interesting.


	8. Sherlock Shares

I hope you guys like this chapter, I worked hard on it and I understand that not everyone will like it, but i hope you guys find it to be a good start. I was thinking about doing, at the most 6 more chapters, maybe more, maybe less. there is some more sexy time in this one. if you like this chapter let me know in the reviews. xoxo

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Chapter 8

221B. Baker Street was never a dull place. There were constantly new, interesting clients and never a boring moment, unless of course there wasn't a challenging enough case to entertain the young detective. Then all hell could very possibly break loose. Which I suppose is what happened on this fateful night, in the darkened hallway of the not so quiet little flat on Baker Street. In this hallway stood two men, neither of them completely sure what was going on, or what they were doing, but none the less, still not ceasing any of their actions.

Sherlock started this experiment in complete control, _he _was testing_ John. _But now, as he found himself up against John and enjoying every sensation, he felt less in control than ever before. In normal circumstances this would be awful for Sherlock; he wouldn't be able to cope with not being in control. Moriarty was an example of that. But this was John; John who he trusted with his life, who was his first real friend in a very, very long time, John, whom he cared about, deeply. So he let his hands slide down the other man's sides. If he was going to let someone else try and pleasure him, rather than do it himself. He was glade it was John, not because he was a doctor, but because he was _John. _

"Sherlock." John whispered as he broke from his flat mate's lips.

"We can't." He breathed heavily as he placed his hands on Sherlock's and tried to remove them from his waist. Sherlock on the other hand would not be budged. He might have relinquished some of his control, but he was _not _going to let go of John.

"This coming from the man who's erection is digging into my thigh." Sherlock stated blandly, he was a becoming irritated with John's inner conflictions. John blushed involuntarily.

"It's not my fault, you're too…Close…" John replied.

"I've been this close before." Sherlock retorted.

"Not from the front and not rubbing against me like thi- Uhnnnnn." John's sentence was cut short as Sherlock grew fed up and grinded against John again, his groin twitching against Sherlock's leg with need. Sherlock leaned in again toward John's face.

"Why do you keep saying no, even after the _apparent_ reaction you have towards me? I just don't comprehend your frivolous conflictions. You even said it yourself the first time we met, that _this_ was fine." Sherlock said.

"I said it was fine for _you._" John said shyly.

"Oh this is ridiculous." Sherlock growled and took John's mouth by siege again. He all but rammed his flat mate into the door again, pressing his entire body into John, feeling his friend spasm under the new pressure.

"T-That's not fair." John gasped as Sherlock broke away for a breath of air.

"No… What isn't fair is that one minute you are easy to figure out, with your shy blushes and your long glances and the next you're on a date with that _girl._" Sherlock spat bitterly.

"_April? _Is this what this is about?" John's voice raised in pitch, in surprise and intrigue.

"I have been watching you more closely this last month than I have watched _anyone _in my entire life. I know all your tells, I know when you feel hungry, nervous, angry and content. I thought I had _finally_ understood you. I thought I could go back to solving interesting crimes and getting into dangerous situations with you. But then you, **out of the blue,** start to date that harlot! Then I doubt my findings. Did you ever stop to think that maybe, _just maybe, _I like that you like me?! I rarely am ever _praised_ for my brilliance; Donavon and Anderson think me to be _freaks. _But then I met _you, _and you blatantly tell me how brilliant you think me to be. It was the first flattery I had received in a long time. But _**now,**_ with that April girl… I may not be as brilliant as either one of us thought. " Sherlock began to scowl at the thought that April could make poor daft John think _she _was intelligent. She was obviously not that smart at all, but that didn't mean John wouldn't think so. It irritated Sherlock to think that John could be fooled in such a way. That John might leave because of his ignorance to facts.

"Sherlock…I-I didn't realize."

"Of course you didn't you're stupid." Sherlock frowned past John as he stared at the door. There was a long, silent pause that seemed to fill the entire flat. Then suddenly,

"I-I didn't have a good time with her." John blurted out. Slowly the taller man looked at John's terrified face.

"We went to her place and we started to…get intimate…and I couldn't…I didn't…I wasn't thinking about her, I was…thinking about…_you_." John's eyes rested awkwardly on Sherlock's electric blue eyes and for the first time since he had met him, John noticed that Sherlock's expression wasn't that of a deducing detective, or a speculative scientist. He was just a man, and it was apparent, even to the daft old doctor what Sherlock wanted to do. John took a deep breath, Sherlock had just told him that he wasn't against John's feelings toward him, in fact, Sherlock encouraged such feelings. He had said that he wasn't just a trivial thing in the detective's life. He even seemed to have been _jealous _of April. John knew what he wanted to do; he knew what Sherlock wanted to do as well. So what was stopping him? What was telling him that what he was feeling wasn't right? No one. No one important at least. The only one who was important was the person in front of him. Sherlock Holmes, the man who played his violin all hours of the night, who could identify God knows how many types of tobacco and the only consulting detective in the world. And right now, John was going to make Sherlock _his _consulting detective.


	9. Doctor Watson and Mr Holmes

Okay, you guys are not going to believe this, I actually have a cist on my wrist from a bust joint or something. So I have to wear a brace. Which means that typing is like 5 times harder. It doesn't hurt to type so im going to keep doing updates, but they might take longer to type up. Sorry for the inconvenience ladies and gents. Anyways, get ready for some sexy times. xoxo

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Chapter 9

John wasted no time, he awkwardly but eagerly leaned into Sherlock and kissed him with all the pent up sexual tension that had been building since God knows how long. His eagerness spoke to Sherlock and the detective gladly reciprocated. Sherlock knew that John wanted this; needed this, and he had come to the astonishing realization that he did as well, in his own way. He had meant every word he had told John. John had been the best thing in his life and he wanted to show John how much he cared. He wanted to show him how much he valued him and he knew how he would do it.

Sherlock deepened John's kiss as he pulled John closer to his body. Their bodies rubbed roughly against each other's manhood, one exciting the other. John forced his hips forward into Sherlock's groin which made Sherlock take in a long, deep breath. No noise, just a long slightly unsteady breath. _Jesus Christ, even when he's aroused he's calm._ John thought in wonder. He was becoming more excited as Sherlock's fingers grazed the top of his pants in almost a playful fashion. John grunted as he thrust his hips forward again. This time Sherlock made the faintest noise, and if John hadn't been listening for it he wouldn't have caught it. Sherlock had ever so quietly said,

"John."

Sherlock had said it in an almost sigh, just a whisper of a breath. John's mind reeled and his body only became more aggressive with the sound of his name from Sherlock's lips. He hadn't realized he had been waiting to hear that, he didn't know he had _needed_ to hear that until now, Sherlock whispering his name with such…desire…was that what it was? Or was it something else? John pulled away from Sherlock a moment and looked up at him. Sherlock had a concerned face for a moment then took John's face in his hands again and kissed him, this time letting his tongue slide past John's reluctant lips and into his warm mouth. Well that cleared up any confusion that John had begun to feel. Sherlock let his hands fall as he and John continued to passionately kiss. Slowly his hands reached for John's belt, John gasped in surprise but did not stop the detective. Sherlock undid the belt; he broke from their kisses long enough to pull the belt from their loops. The sudden break made John almost whine at the loss of Sherlock's lips, he aggressively reached forward and yanked a surprised Sherlock back into his embrace. Sherlock began to unbutton John's jeans and unzip him as John grinded against Sherlock's moving hands.

"John… that is not… helping me." Sherlock grunted in frustration and lust as John continued to grind against his hands and thigh. John tried to apologize but didn't stop his vigorous rubbing against his flat mate. When Sherlock had undid the button and zipper and yanked John's trousers down and let them drop at their feet. John had the sudden urge to kiss Sherlock's neck so he let himself indulge as he began to suck on the taller man's lower neck and collar bone. Sherlock shuddered and cupped his hand over John's groin. He groped firmly onto John's cock through the red fabric and ran his partially closed hand along the impressive length of it. John lurched forward. He hadn't felt like this with any woman he had ever been with. It was different. Sherlock's hand was bigger and stronger and-

Sherlock pulled on John's cock lightly forcing John to come closer to him. Sherlock let go and put both hands on John's head as John continued to suck on Sherlock's collar bone. John began to feel that clothes were an unnecessary item and began to unbutton Sherlock's purple shirt, however halfway down Sherlock found that unbuttoning was too tedious and just yanked the shirt open for John. Various buttons flew from them all over the hallway.

"Mrs. Hudson will be cross with us." John said breathlessly as he looked up at Sherlock with a smirk.

"Let her be." Sherlock retorted as he placed his hands on John's head again, John took the hint and began to kiss and suck on Sherlock's collar bone again. Sherlock removed his hands from John's head and took John's hands in his own. John's palms were sweaty but Sherlock took no mind. He interlocked their fingers together and squeezed John's hand tightly as John began to suck on Sherlock's chest and more importantly his hardened nipple. These sensations were fairly new to Sherlock, for he had had very, _very_ few of these sorts of encounters, especially nothing like this. Like he had with John, nothing so...intimate. Sherlock began to pull John toward him more, away from the front door and toward the stairs. John literally stepped out of his trousers and left them behind as they made their way down the front hall and up the stairs. All the while Sherlock's hand never left John's. That is, until they stumbled into the living room. Sherlock promptly began taking off his trousers as John removed his coat and shirt.

_We're really going to do this. _John thought with a sigh. He had finally stopped caring what others might think; he and Sherlock were actually going to do this. John had just gotten his shoes off when Sherlock was on him again. Sherlock's chest was smooth as his brushed against John's. Sherlock wrapped his long arms around John and pulled him in close.

"You're heart rate is up." Sherlock stated feeling John's heart pound in his chest.

"Yeah, so is yours." John replied.

"Indeed. It's the blood pumping to our-"

"Sherlock, can we not? You don't have to explain it to me, I _am _a doctor." John said.

"Yes, that is something I am counting on." Sherlock grinned.

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if you guys liked this chapter then leave a review and if you have any other slah fics that you might think i can write i would love to hear it! Cuz i am really getting into the whole fanfic writing thing. so ya. :)


	10. John, Can I Give You a Hand?

Hi everyone, thanks for the awesome suggestions. I have some great ideas for new fanfics now, but if you guys have any more feel free to ask me! :) And it doesn't just have to be Sherlock either. I like Supernatural, Doctor Who, Firefly,Harry Potter.. Okay i like a lot of stuff. :P Anyways, I hope you all will be happy with this chapter. I know I'm taking it kind of slow, but its only cuz i want to stretch it out. lol sorry. :3 My wrist is doing better as a side note, so thanks for your guys' concerns. :) [[btw, there _is_ some swearing and stuff, if you guys are bugged by that, sorry...I know some people who don't like it so...ya.]]

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Chapter 10

Sherlock had _one thing_ on his mind as his flat mate pulled him close by the elastic band of his underpants. It wasn't his experiments, or his cases. It was just…John. The only thing on Sherlock's incredibly intelligent mind was John Watson. He knew that he had always had a soft spot for him, for some reason he had taken an interest in John when they first met. It had been a usual meeting, one filled with obvious deductions about John and John's over all astonished expression. But before he had left the room that fateful day, he was still debating whether or not to give this stranger the address to 221 B. Something had made up his mind, it wasn't any new evidence or another clue to John's personality. It had been a _feeling._ And Sherlock _**never **_went off of his _feelings. _But he had with John, and right now he was so very glad he did.

John pulled Sherlock down into another kiss, this one more _passionate_, needy, hungry and _anxious_ than all the ones before. John was still _beyond_ confused about how this was going to happen but he continued to kiss his flat mate none the less. Sherlock let John's tongue roam in his mouth for a moment or so before he broke.

"Bed." Sherlock instructed gruffly. John obeyed as he followed Sherlock into his bedroom eagerly.

"Lie down." Sherlock ordered. He honestly wasn't exactly sure if he would do this correctly, but he was a genius, he assumed if he just figured it out as they went along, like one of his cases, they would be just fine. John stood at the end of Sherlock's bed facing Sherlock, the back of his legs bumping the edge of the bed. Sherlock promptly pushed John backwards and John fell lightly on his back onto the detective's sheets. John let out a small laugh and smiled as Sherlock followed him, crawling onto him and hovering over his body. Sherlock didn't touch John, not just yet anyways. John looked up and met Sherlock's eyes.

"Are you sure about this John? You don't have any trepidation do you?" Sherlock smirked. John grinned.

"Not this time." replied the doctor with a smugness that Sherlock found interesting and alluring.

Sherlock slowly lowered his body onto John's letting his member brush up against John's as applied pressure to his friend's body ever so delicately. He watched John's expression turn from a smug smirk to one filled with pleasure as his eyes shut. John groaned as his cock ached against Sherlock's. They were both hard now, insanely so. John had never thought that another man's erection could feel so good on his own. But the fabric, it was stopping something even better. John reached for their underwear, but Sherlock stopped him as he placed a hand over John's. John looked up opening his eyes in confusion.

"Not yet." Sherlock said.

He continued to lie down until he was completely on John. There was no space between them. They were one. Sherlock let his head fall just above John's shoulder. Sherlock whispered in John's ear.

"John Watson, I do believe that I have deduced that you are, in fact, sexually attracted to me." He said with a triumphant smile. John let out a chuckle.

"What gave you that idea?" John teased as he reached his arms around to hold onto Sherlock's torso, his very muscular and smooth torso.

Sherlock shrugged in response to John's speculation, but he didn't just _shrug_. When he moved, his entire body moved. Grinding up against John, their cocks rubbing against each other in such a way that both men let out long groans due to the sensation it provided for the both of them. Sherlock grinded against John again, and again, with each thrust of the detectives hips the more pre-cum came out of both of them. John's red underwear where practically soaked at this point. Sherlock was continually intrigued at how much better this was than anything else he had experienced, aside from solving a case, obviously. This was much more pleasurable than him doing it himself. Sherlock reached down, still in mid-grind and took hold of John's cock. He seized it and would not let go as he rubbed up and down on the shaft through the fabric. John thrust his hips upward into Sherlock, getting another satisfying grunt from the detective.

John thrust again and held up in midair, their bodies still melded together just with John's bum off the bed about an inch. Sherlock pushed back with just as much pressure, with John pressing up and Sherlock pressing down their bodies stiffened at the harmonious friction that they produced between them. Sherlock pushed a bit harder and felt John thump back onto the bed. Sherlock then began to kiss John's neck; he caressed John's inner thighs with his hands as he licked and kissed on the good doctor's neck and chest. Sherlock found that if he sucked on John's nipple or bit him lightly every so often, he could get his friend's hips to rise up again in ecstasy, grinding back into his own erection. Which Sherlock found very gratifying, it was proving that he really could do anything if he put his brilliant mind to it. Even with the little knowledge he had taken the time to obtain.

As Sherlock continued to kiss John's chest, he decided that it would be best for him to help John relieve some of the pressure, or the man might just burst, according to the sounds he was making that is. So Sherlock, with a knowing smirk began to pull the last of John's remaining clothes off of him. Ever so slowly Sherlock pulled the fabric down until John's cock was barely being held down by the soft but sufficiently sturdy red fabric. John's heart skipped a beat and he gasped as Sherlock yanked the cloth down all the way fully exposing John. John's erection sprang to life hitting his lower abdomen and bringing wide eyes to the consulting detective, as if he had just encountered an epiphany of large proportions.

Sherlock had to pause a moment. He didn't know what the average penis size was for a man, it had no relevance in his life, and therefore he hadn't retained such information. That being said, John was big…Even Sherlock knew that. The detective knew he himself was fairly well off in that department as well, but John… Well, let's just say Sherlock was colored impressed…And aroused for that matter. Sherlock sank down John on the bed so that he was eye level with John's belly button. John's cock twitched, just with the knowledge of Sherlock's proximity to his erection. Sherlock glanced up at John with a smirk.

"Can you _try _and contain yourself John. I am trying to _help _you." Sherlock teased.

John chuckled making his cock bounce around near Sherlock's intrigued face. Sherlock just hovered near it, not letting the member touch anything. John was becoming impatient after a few excruciatingly long moments. Sherlock watched carefully as John's erection twitched whenever Sherlock's breath presented itself near or on the member, Sherlock was almost _mesmerized_ by John's automatic reactions to him. Maybe he should look more closely into human anatomy when they were done here; it might help with these sorts of situations that presented themselves in the future. Hopefully such a future would exist. Because honestly he was enjoying watching John squirm, so Sherlock would give him _**something**_ just not what John was waiting for, not just yet… After a moment Sherlock saw a wonderful opportunity to take hold of the slippery tip in between his first finger and thumb.

"Bloody fucking Christ!" John swore loudly, due to the surprise of Sherlock's touch. John's body wretched and he twisted from side to side a moment while Sherlock lightened his hold and began to caress up and down the shaft lightly with the tips of his fingers. John took a deep breath and sighed as Sherlock began to pump him slowly with his entire hand. Sherlock let his fingers and palm slide gracefully over John's member, his pre cum making it slick.

"Oh God, YES." John groaned then clamped his hand over his own mouth. Sherlock looked up at John in confusion. John removed his hand and whispered,

"Is Mrs. Hudson in?" His eyes wide with fear that the elderly women could hear their nefarious actions. Sherlock let out a short chuckle.

"She's visiting a niece I believe; you don't have to worry about your extremely loud curses. No one can hear you. Unless you count the entire block." Sherlock chuckled again and returned his focus back to John's erection. John let out a laugh of relief and amusement. John thought Sherlock to be a not only an intelligent man but a witty one and he very much enjoyed the playful banter with his flat mate as well as the intriguing and enlightening conversations they had. John laughed again. Why was he thinking about such sappy things while he was getting a bloody hand job from his best friend? _Beats me._ John looked down at Sherlock who seemed extremely focused as he began to pump John harder and faster.

"Sher- Sherlock. S-Slow down." John gasped at the fierceness in Sherlock's grip. John began to spasm in little fits as Sherlock jerked his hand up and down.

"Sherlock you have to stop now, I'm…I'm going to cum." John warned, but these words did not deter the consulting detective from his actions.

"Sherlock!" John felt every movement of Sherlock's hand, it came down to the base near his sensitive balls then back up near the tip then down again. Then Sherlock pumped up to the tip and this time used his thumb to lightly rub the very tip ever so delicately. This made John scream.

"Jesus Fucking Chri- Sherlock! Oh-Ohmm My God, YES. Sherlock, YES." John's hips jerked forward; Sherlock continued to thumb the tip as cum spilled out onto his hand. John writhed side to side a few times, letting an immense amount of cum pour out of him. He had never felt this good in his entire life, not by himself or with any women. This was beyond heavenly, with Sherlock's long fingers coiled around his member and the smell of his best friend's musk in the air. Finally John slumped down onto the bed completely empty. He had never cum that hard and he suddenly felt unbearably tired. Sherlock brought his hand up and examined the remnants of John's orgasm. John watch Sherlock do this with a smirk as he seen that Sherlock had his scientist eyes on as he looked at his hand. John, despite his tired and aching body, sat up on his elbows and with one hand reached up to Sherlock who was now sitting on his knees by John's side. John's hand snaked around the long seductive neck of the consulting detective and pulled him towards him. Sherlock's eyes instantly changed back to one filled with lust, as if he was suddenly remembering, that he too had a large erection underneath his underpants. John pulled Sherlock into a long, slowly, tender kiss and when he broke away Sherlock's eyes were closed and he looked content. John smiled and leaned into the other man's ear.

"I think it's your turn now, don't you think."

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at John's cheek and whispered back.

"I believe it is doctor."

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Hey really quick, if you guys want to check out my tumblr it's

signingpineapple

(Not singing but signing)

So, Yeah. :) thank you guys for reading and reviewing, it really makes me proud to be a writer and a fan of Sherlock. lol okay. see you guys next chapter! xoxo


	11. Chapter 11

Hi there everyone, so sorry it's been awhile. I've been swamped with homework and holiday stuff. yadda yadda. blah blah... BORING. anyways, so I hope you all like this chapter. I am loving your lovely reviews! This is the final chapter of this story. But I've got lots of messages wanting more so I'm going to start a new story sometime soon-ish and it's going to be like a continuation of this one. Where there relationship develops.

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Chapter 11

John didn't know if he could do as well as Sherlock had done for him. He must have a bit more experience though, right? _I mean, I've had more sex than he has…at least I __**think**__ I have…_John thought reluctantly. The army doctor had been through many stressful situations throughout his time in Afghanistan, but even still, this moment had him more apprehensive than all other situations put together.

"Your heart rate is up again." Sherlock perceived with intrigue as John tried to maneuver out from under Sherlock's body.

"Do you always have to tell everyone in the room what you see?"

"I didn't _see_ I _observe._" Sherlock replied with slight annoyance. John smiled as he proceeded to straddle Sherlock. His tan thighs against Sherlock's alabaster skin, made John want to attack his bedfellow with every sexual act he had ever heard of .

"Yes, well, you know what _I _observe?" John said.

"I'm sure you'll tell me." Sherlock rolled his eyes. John looks suggestively at Sherlock as he grinds up against Sherlock's erection, making Sherlock let out a disgruntled huff.

"Very insightful observation, John. But I was hoping you'd dig a bit deeper. " Sherlock replied sarcastically, but even John knew that the words he said were playful.

"Deeper you say?" John asked with a grin as he continued to grind into Sherlock but with more pressure and force behind his hips. Sherlock let out an airy chuckle.

"Not what I had in mind, but don't stop on my account." Sherlock replied with a half grin that made John want him even more. John continued with vigorous consistency as he leaned over and held onto Sherlock's broad muscular shoulders. He looked down at Sherlock whom had his eyes shut in ecstasy. John couldn't think of a better sight. It was funny, if someone told him a week ago that he would be doing this right now, he would have told them that they were insane. Sweat beaded on John's forehead as he thrust into Sherlock. He stared down at the slender man below him, his neck was so long and his skin was so soft. John slid his hands down from Sherlock's shoulder's past his impressive biceps, and forearm and finally reached Sherlock's soft hands. _Those hands. _John thought. He had touched them once or twice before, in the process of obtaining a phone or handing Sherlock a cup of tea, he had always loved the softness that had brushed up against him. Now he could seize the entire hand with no qualms. He interlocked his fingers with Sherlock's which made the detective open his eyes. Sherlock knew this was meant as an intimate gesture, and for the first time, he understood why people held hands.

Before it had always annoyed him, most probably because he did not understand why you would hold another person's hand unless you were pulling them along with you or something along those lines. But maybe he had been annoyed by the thought of people holding hands because he had never really had that much contact with other people, especially nothing as intimate as holding someone else's hand in his. He looked down at the interlocking fingers.

"Is this alright?" John asked in a bit of a concerned tone.

"Yes, I mean, I don't… dislike it. It's quite alright." Sherlock replied trying to find the right words.

John nodded and leaned down to kiss Sherlock again, as he did so Sherlock felt a shift in the air. The temperature increased and he knew it was because of John. John grinded harder into Sherlock as he kissed the detective's seductively perfect marble neck. Sherlock in reaction to the stimulation that John provided him instinctively, without even thinking, squeezed John's hand. This act made John want Sherlock more than ever before, for he knew the feelings that came with the detective's gesture, he was feeling them himself. John reached in between their melded bodies and took hold of Sherlock with yearning. Sherlock's breath became shallow as John leaned into his shoulder giving him some space near their groins. While Sherlock _was_ taller than John, it was mostly leg, so as the men lay on the bed their bodies matched up wonderfully. John was getting harder as he felt Sherlock's large erection in his hand. John began to stroke slowly and Sherlock thrust his hips into John's fist. He couldn't help it, he had never felt anything so wonderful, so _fantastic. _

John pumped Sherlock harder as Sherlock began to pant and writhe in John's wielding hand. John had thought to himself that he would just do to Sherlock what he would do to himself and adjust according to the sounds the other man made. John was becoming more aroused with each thrust of Sherlock's willing hips. _I wonder what it would feel like with him behind me. Those bloody fucking hips. What would it feel like with his cock- _John paused that train of thought. Was he actually considering having Sherlock _inside _him?Let's just take this one step at a time, alright? Not tonight. But John _did _want something more, and he wanted it now. That's when he slowly stopped stroking Sherlock who was on the edge and John began to assume the position that Sherlock has once held over him. His little button nose brushed against Sherlock's abdomen.

"John, what are you doing." Sherlock said this more than questioned it. He knew very well what John was about to attempt.

"Just hold still, alright Sherlock?" John said as he took the base of Sherlock's cock in his fingertips.

"John, are you sure you want to do this?" Sherlock asked in a concerned tone. He didn't want John to feel as if he _needed _to do this.

"Yes, I want to. Unless of course _you _don't want me to?" John asked, suddenly wondering if Sherlock even wanted to do this?

"Isn't it obvious?!" Sherlock snapped as if John's ignorance was too much for that split second then he paused and took a breath. In a calm voice he added,

"Of course I want you to John, I just want to make sure _you _want to. Because as we are well aware you are struggling a great deal with your sexuality and I wouldn't want to- Uhhhnnnn.. Oh, John." Sherlock purred. He was interrupted by John's tender lips kissing the tip of his erect penis. John smiled at Sherlock's reaction. He loved seeing his friend in such a state of …vulnerability…trust…desire…and many other things that he had never before seen his in friend. He liked it even more because he was the one causing all of these. _He _was the one bringing Sherlock to his knees, in a manner of speaking. John began to slowly lick up and down the shaft with very careful movements. Sherlock's mind reeled, he couldn't describe what he was feeling even _with _his vast vocabulary. All he could do was pant and gasp at John's touch.

"John, oh for Christ's sake! Are you sure you haven't done this before?" Sherlock asked with intrigue.

"I've had enough to know what feels good." John replied with a smile as he licked the wet slit of Sherlock's pink tip. Sherlock jerked forward in response to the touch.

"Remind me to thank your previous sexual partners for their indirect help." Sherlock said in a gruff and low tone. It rumbled through his throat and made John shiver just at the sound of it.

John couldn't hold back anymore, at the sound of Sherlock's low, wanting voice John took the head of Sherlock's erection into his mouth. Just the tip slid past the good doctor's lips and into John's warm willing mouth. Sherlock entire body shivered at the completely foreign touch. John let his tongue run over the slit as he tasted Sherlock in his entirety. Sherlock let out a low almost guttural sound as he restrained himself from thrusting his hips upward into John's warmth. And John could feel his tension growing, he slowly took his mouth away and licked down the shaft to the base and back up, all the while looking up at Sherlock. Their eyes had locked onto one another; Sherlock's sapphire blue eyes bore into Johns. John silently willed Sherlock to do as he pleased, he knew what Sherlock wanted to do, it's exactly what _he _would want to do if he were in Sherlock's position. He gave Sherlock a short nod giving him a silent "okay" as he took the man's entire member into his mouth.

"Oh! Dear God!" Sherlock cried out as John's mouth enveloped his entire erection. John began to suck on Sherlock's cock with a hungry fashion. Sherlock tasted sweet, in a bitter sort of way, kind of like his personality.

"John, oh John, don't stop. Please for Christ's sake don't..uhnnn..stop…." Sherlock rasped as John's head bobbed up and down on him. John hadn't known if Sherlock had understood what John meant by his previous head nod until suddenly Sherlock's hands were on the back of John's head. Sherlock, as gently as he could, thrust up into John's mouth, the first one made the man gag, so Sherlock didn't go in as far the next time he pumped into the warmth. They quickly found a rhythm that suited them and Sherlock thrust into John a few more times. John was still holding the base of Sherlock tightly as he fondled his balls gently. Then he had an idea, he didn't know if this would excite or terrify Sherlock but he decided why the bloody hell not?

John kept one hand firmly on Sherlock's cock and slowly took the other one and slid it a bit under his mates bum. Sherlock continued to thrust upward holding onto his bedfellow's head. Sherlock was on the verge.

"John, I have to…I must stop now… Let me go." Sherlock indicted to the hand that John still had on Sherlock's member. But John would not let Sherlock out of his mouth and upper throat. He continued to bob as Sherlock tried to pull out. John then took his wet finger, near Sherlock's backside and lightly played near the slit. Sherlock's cock began to spasm and John felt it twinge in his mouth, John smiled. John had, once or twice done this to himself while getting himself off and he had been hoping that Sherlock had the same reaction he did to this certain stimulation. Ever so slowly John inserted the tip of his finger into Sherlock's arse. That's when the consulting detective lost it, he had tried to hold it in, but it seemed that John was adamant on letting Sherlock's cum fill him and it did indeed fill him. John swallowed as much as he could but despite his best efforts some of it spilled from his lips onto Sherlock's bare abdomen. Sherlock slumped heavily back into the bed, completely spent. John smiled as he wiped his lips. Sherlock closed his eyes a moment and just let all the information sinks in. He stored away certain feelings and sensations for him to later revisit and examine. But for now, Sherlock was just in complete and utter awe. Sherlock opened his eyes to see John staring at him, wide eyed.

John was still processing what had just happened, _now what?_ He asked himself. And Sherlock could easily see the question on John's face. But neither of them spoke not a for a full minute, they just sat there staring at each other. Their fingers intertwined in one hand. After a moment, it was clear to both men that this was something that both of them wanted to continue, but neither of them sure how to do just that. So John smiled at Sherlock and got up off the bed. He found Sherlock's discarded blue rob on the ground and put it on. He then turned to Sherlock with a small smile.

"Right then. So, a cup of tea?"


End file.
